A Christmas Carol
by music4evah
Summary: In a selfish world of growing hate, Dan has decided that Ian is too much to handle this Christmas. With his faithful friend Hamilton and a reluctant Natalie, the three hatch a plot to "help" Ian- but mostly themselves.
1. Chapter 1

**As many of you should know, last year, around Christmas time, I started a story called "A Christmas Carol". I finished, a bit late, but I still finished it.**

**And it was a complete failure. Horridly unoriginal, almost a carbon copy of the book with replaced names, and just… not… good. I promised to rewrite it in a much more appealing form, and the original has been posted on a site along with all of my other failures.**

**So, it being near Christmas now… Let's hope I don't mess this up again.**

A Christmas Carol

A 39 Clues work of fiction (re)written by Music4evah.

Chapter 1

The snow was whirling in an unmerciful storm. Each stab of ice that cut the bare skin was only made worse by the bitter wind that blew the flakes and turned them into missiles. Yes, this particular December 19th was definitely not a day that you wanted to be outside in New York. No children were playing in the parks, and the holiday shopping had slowed to only the bravest and most determined shoppers.

Not that Ian Kabra cared about any of it. No, everyone could freeze to death outside for all he cared. Maybe all of this foolish 'Christmas cheer' business would end, then.

It would be an understatement to say that Ian wasn't fond of Christmas. In fact, he loathed it. The weather was never good. The snow was always creating a dreary atmosphere, and, on days like these, it was even worse. Everyone always expected him to be _nice._ "There are so many poor and unfortunate people living on the streets!" they claimed. "Surely someone as rich and powerful as you could help them." And every year, Ian always told them "_No."_ He wasn't about to go out into the streets and become a one man charity! No, that wouldn't do at _all_. And how could he part with his precious money for absolutely nothing in return? That was just out of the question.

Carolers always came around to his penthouse. The minute they started to sing, he would slam the door in their faces. Some were persistent, though; they only sang louder. Others got the message and left him in peace. But the worst time was the year before, when someone had had the nerve to send him a Christmas Gram to cheer him up. The carolers burst into his office and started singing a traditional Christmas song, and that was the last straw. Ian had never hated Christmas more.

The lights in the window shops were blinding, and the decorations were ridiculous. Who was stupid enough to put lights on trees? And to think that before electric lights had been invented, they had used _candles!_ The slightest accident could burn a whole house down. And then there was the whole deal with that fat man in a silly red suit… What was appealing about _that?_

Ian could go on and on about why he hated Christmas so much. He hated a lot of holidays, but Christmas was definitely the worst. Why was everyone so bloody _cheerful?_

"Cursed idiotic awful…" Ian continued to mutter complaints and profanities as he shuffled through his paper work. He was in his office, which took up half of the floor of the building. It was lavishly furnished, nothing less then what a Kabra would have. 'The best of the best, and certainly no less,' was one saying that Ian was fond of. He had actually thought of it himself, and he was very pleased with it. It was better than his father's 'FLO' idea, at least.

Somehow, however, that saying couldn't rid him of the irksome happenings of his everyday life. His art-dealing business (and occasional acts of stealing) was better than ever this year. He had even more money, and he was one of the richest men that were currently living in the United States. But his good luck had one down side; the paper work. He would leave it all to his numerous workers and interns, but so much of it had to be dealt with so carefully… He just couldn't allow those buffoons to muck all of his hard work up.

"M... Mr. Kabra?" a timid voice asked.

"What?" he snapped, raising his head to glare at the woman standing nervously before him.

"I… I just wondered, if you were done with your coffee, perhaps I could refill it for you?"

"Yes, yes…" Ian waved a hand and brought his focus once again to the more important matters at hand. She left with his mug, not daring to say anything else. She had learned quickly not to irritate her boss, especially when he was like this.

Unfortunately, Daniel Cahill, who had been working for Ian longer than anyone else then, didn't seem to pick the message up.

No one knew why Dan had been able to hang on to his job when Ian fired worker after worker for their 'incompetence' so quickly and without mercy. After all, if anyone was incompetent, Dan was. It wasn't possible for him to be bribing Ian. He probably didn't get very good pay anyways, and a whole year's savings wouldn't move Ian. His wealth was far greater than that. Some wondered if his antics were simply an act, and that he was really Ian's right hand man, sworn to secrecy. Such theories were quickly dismissed and declared 'stupid'.

But whatever the reason, Dan was bound to get fired sooner or later, so when Ian's foul mood was so completely vile that day, they were certain that the time had come.

"MERRYYYYYYY CHRISTMAAAAAAAAS!" Dan bellowed in a deep voice that he normally did not use. "HO, HO, HO!"

Ian swore. "Don't tell me…"

Dan burst into Ian's office looking quite unlike himself. He was wearing a red suit trimmed with white fur, black boots, a shiny belt, and a soft red hat. He wore a fake white beard, and there was obviously a pillow stuffed into his coat to make him look fat. There was a velvet bag that he carried over his shoulder, and much to Ian's regret, he realized that Dan was dressed up as the Christmas character called Santa Clause.

The other employees started making bets on how long Dan would last.

"MERRY CHIRSTMAS, IAN KABRA!" Dan called cheerfully, still using his deep Santa Clause voice. "HO, HO, HO! What do you want for Christmas? Perhaps some chocolate? A nice teddy bear?"

A pin drop could have been heard in the silence that followed Dan's statement.

Ian stared at Dan for about seven seconds before he started yelling at him. "_What are you THINKING?_ Who do you think I am, some silly Christmas lover?"

"I just thought-" Dan began, losing his Santa Clause voice.

"_Nothing!_ You weren't thinking anything! How _dare_ you barge into my office dressed as… as…" Ian looked Dan up and down, his face showing complete and utter disgust. "Dressed as some bloody _fat man!_ And you offer me chocolate? And a _teddy bear?_ I am a grown man, not a stupid child! How _dare_ you!"

"B-but Ian!" Dan fumbled for an excuse. "It's Christmas! People do things like this! It's just to get a good laugh, you know?"

"You were trying to make a _fool_ of me?"

"No, no! That came out wrong…"

Ian growled and gave an annoyed wave. "Oh, for goodness sake, take that stupid costume off!"

"But I haven't given out any presents yet!" Dan protested.

"Presents?" Ian asked skeptically. "Teddy bears for everyone, I suppose?"

Dan shuffled his feet nervously. "…Maybe."

"Oh, well, why don't you pass them out, then?"

"Really?" Dan perked up.

"_No!_ Get out of here! Get out of those stupid clothes, throw away the stupid presents, and GET BACK TO WORK! Where's my coffee?" Ian stormed back into his office, and Dan took a few slow steps back before turning around.

"Huh, I wonder what his problem is," he shrugged.

Everyone else who had gathered to watch Dan get fired was amazed.

"Ha! You owe me a hundred, Fred!"

"But… How did he not…? I don't understand!" Fred stammered.

"There's something about Dan Cahill," his friend said with a shake of his head and a pat on Fred's back. "Now pay up."

Dan continued walking past the mumbling workers. He knew they didn't know how Dan could have passed Ian's wrath, but Dan just kept an aura of nonchalance. On the inside, however, he was shaking with his own rage.

_How could Ian still hate Christmas so much? I thought that Christmas Gram last year would have softened him up! _

Christmas had been Dan's favorite holiday for as long as he could remember. All of the presents, food, and candy were just the tip of the ice berg! He loved the snow, and played in it like a little kid whenever he could. The Carolers could sing the Christmas songs better then he could, and it was fun to dance to their music whenever they came by. And there was always the perk of playing an occasional prank on them! The decorations were another great part. Who wouldn't feel as jolly as old Saint Nicholas with a spectacular tree and bright lights?

Ian Kabra would.

Dan sighed as he pulled off his red coat and let the pillow that had been concealed by it tumble onto his desk. _I still can't believe that the Christmas Gram didn't work last year._ Dan had tried a few plans to get Ian to let in the Christmas spirit. When there was Christmas spirit, everyone was happy, didn't care if you were late for a job, and gave you a few days of free time to spend with your family. Was a little break so much to ask?

"Apparently, it is," Dan muttered to himself as he tore of his beard of cotton balls.

He had to put an end to Ian's loathing.

* * *

Later that night, Dan went to visit his good friend Hamilton. They'd been through a lot together, and Dan knew that he could complain to him about almost anything. And so that was exactly what Dan was planning to do now. He was fed up with Ian, and even if things would never change, at least he could vent to Hamilton about how unfair it all was.

"It's all just so unfair!" Dan cried. "He's _always_ grumpy, especially around Christmas! And that's my favorite holiday, too."

"It's hard to not like Christmas," Hamilton agreed. "I mean, what with all the good food and presents going around…"

"Exactly!" Dan sighed. "I wish I could get him to like it, at least a little bit! You'd think he'd be greedy enough to enjoy the presents. I've tried everything, though. I sent him a Christmas gram with a bunch of singers, and I dressed up like Santa Clause. I was going to give him chocolate and a teddy bear!"

"_Everything?_" Hamilton laughed. "That's only two plans that I wouldn't expect to work, anyways!"

"Well, I don't know what else to do!" Dan sighed. "I'd just quit, but Amy would kill me if I had to go looking for another job. What would it take to fix him?"

Hamilton grinned, cracking his knuckles. "I'll be more than happy to help you straighten him out," he chuckled.

"Whoa, not _that_ kind of straightening, Hammer!" Dan cried, eyes wide.

"What?" Hamilton asked. "But I thought you me wanted to…"

"No, no, I'm not _that_ upset." Dan made a face. "I think." He shrugged. "Anyways, if we tried to beat him up... Well, if _you_ did, then I think he'd just get more angry. Even if it _would_ be funny to see him start crying."

Hamilton chuckled in agreement, then grew more serious. "This whole thing kind of reminds me of a show that I saw last night," he suddenly realized. "You know, 'A Christmas Carol'? Ian's like Scrooge, and you're kind of like Bob Crachit. Except you're not married and you don't have a crippled son…" He shook his head. "If only we could get ghosts to change him, like in the movie."

Dan leaped up. "Hamilton! You're a genius!"

"What?" Hamilton asked, confused once again.

"Ham, don't you see? We'll do our own Christmas Carol thing! We can get some people to help us out with it all. Dude, look, I can be one ghost, you can be another ghost, and we can get somebody else to be a third one! We'll be Past, Present, and Future!"

"Dan, I'm not sure this is going to work," Hamilton said doubtfully. "I mean, this is _Ian_ we're talking about. He doesn't believe in ghosts. At least, I don't think he does. And he's not going to think _we're_ ghosts- he'll recognize us!"

"That's why we have to wear _costumes!_" Dan grinned. "And we need special effects. You know how to do all that technical stuff, right?"

Hamilton shrugged uncomfortably."It depends on what you want..."

"Smoke, lights, eerie sounds, cold air..." Dan started to list. "You know, ghost stuff! And you know what? I bet I could get Natalie to fix us some costumes!"

Hamilton stared at him, silently concluding that Dan had finally gone mad.

Dan sighed at his friend's look. "Okay, so maybe we'll only be able to borrow them, but hey, she's nicer than Ian," he pointed out. "And maybe we can get _her_ to be a ghost, too! This is going to be _easy_, man!" Dan gave a whoop of excitement and started strutting out of the room, congratulating himself for being so smart.

With a sigh, Hamilton got up and followed his friend reluctantly. "I'm really not liking this plan..."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 2**

"You _do_ realize that this will never work, right?"

Dan and Hamilton glanced at each other, before the latter raised a hand. "Actually, I'm not too convinced about it either, to tell the truth," he admitted, avoiding Dan's betrayed look.

Natalie sighed. When Dan and Hamilton had paid a visit to her, it would be an understatement to say that she was surprised. Of course it had been a shock to see the two men standing behind her secretary, Elise. They had been introduced with a look of disgust, and received by Natalie with the same. She wasn't sure how on earth Elise had gotten the nerve to bring them to her, although the excuse of being family must have been the majority of the story. They were wearing some of the most hideous clothes that she had ever seen, and that had just been their outer layer! When they had taken off their coats to accommodate themselves to the warm temperature of Natalie's large suite she called home, she had been hard pressed not to throw them out right then and there. Oh, and the melted snow they tracked in! She had nearly screamed, knowing that her carpets would never be the same.

Reluctantly, she had led her guests into a lush living room. There, Natalie had demanded why they were now invading her (nearly) perfect life. In a rush, Dan had explained what Natalie already knew about Ian and his foul feelings for Christmas. His short temper was no surprise, for she had worked with him enough to know that much before leaving to start her own life. Now she was the queen of all designers, her ultimate goal, and she even had a nice family started, too! Her world could become a little hectic at times, but she relished the challenges it brought.

But not this kind.

"Look, I know it sounds a little far-fetched," Dan sighed. "But with the right material, I think we can do it. I mean, just think of how you could benefit from it!"

Natalie already had thought and come to that same conclusion. Obviously she could benefit. All of them could. "When was the last time you saw 'A Christmas Carol'?" she asked.

"Um… I dunno', a couple years ago?" Dan shrugged.

"I saw it a few nights ago on TV," Hamilton offered.

"That book is one of Ian's favorites," Natalie said. "Well, he was rather disappointed when Scrooge turned soft at the end. But he knows it inside out. I know that you are both intent on changing his heart, but _he will know_ that something is up." She shook her head. "He would recognize us in an instant, anyways. And then there are the technical issues. How do you plan to show him his own memories? We are not real ghosts. You cannot take him back in time. You cannot show him the future." Natalie smiled triumphantly. She knew that her argument was hard to beat. "He will not fall for it."

Dan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know it won't be easy," he said. "Nothing with Ian ever is. But we'll figure something out." He gave her a pleading look. "We just need a bit of help. You're a Lucian! You can come up with a fantastic plan that would blow Ian away, one that he would never see coming!" Dan leaned forward, becoming more and more enthusiastic. "With your help, we could get him to do anything we want. I'm surprised you didn't do this before!"

"Excuse me, Madame?" Elise was back at Natalie's elbow. "You only have a short while before you must leave for the meeting."

Natalie nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Is the limo ready?"

"Just about, I believe."

"Make sure it is." Natalie turned back to Dan and Hamilton as Elise strode off to obey. "I am sorry," she told them. They were surprised to realize that she actually meant it. "But as you have heard, I have to go."

"Let's just make a deal then," Hamilton said quickly. "You agree to help us make a plan. Provide costumes. I can whip up some technical stuff, and Dan can throw in a few ideas, too." He shrugged. "Just allow us to come up with something. Then, once we've got the best plan possible, you can decide if you want to move forward."

"Please?" Dan added anxiously.

Natalie looked back and forth between them. Finally, she made up her mind. "If I do, I need something more than the prospects of what _could_ happen."

"You mean like a down payment?" Dan asked.

"Exactly. I need something beforehand."

"Well that's easy!" Dan grinned. Hamilton slumped back in the couch. Natalie cringed.

"No, it's not," he sighed. "Dan, what can we give her? Money's not gonna' sway her. We don't have nearly enough to offer."

"…Oh." Dan's back hit the couch as well, and Natalie just barely contained her tears. She would have to get another one imported…

Hamilton sighed. "Here, just give us a minute," he muttered to Natalie before turning to Dan. "What can we do?" he whispered.

"I don't know, man!" Dan bit his lip. "Can we offer her advertisement for her stores, or something?"

"She already does plenty of that. Have you _seen_ any of them?"

"Are you kidding? I don't look for fashion stuff!"

"Obviously," Natalie muttered to herself. Despite their frantic whispers, she could make out every word they were saying.

Hamilton and Dan glanced at her and lowered their voices even more.

"You don't have to look for them," Hamilton hissed. "But the _point is_, that won't help."

"Natalie," Elise called, stepping into the room again. "Are you ready?"

"Just a moment," Natalie told her. She sighed as she turned back to the two arguing men. "Listen. Stop it, you two!" Dan and Hamilton pulled back from their whisperings, apprehensive. "I'll give you a proposition."

"But you're _married!_"

Hamilton whacked the back of Dan's head.

"Ow!"

"Shut up."

"_As I was saying,_" Natalie emphasized, "I know what you can offer."

"Oh, that's good!" Dan grinned.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Be here at 5:00 tomorrow."

"But I'll be at work," Dan protested. "Ian won't let me out."

"I'll be free," Hamilton put in. "How soon can you get out?"

"_Maybe_ six," Dan decided after a bit of thought.

"Good." Natalie nodded. "You will be here until 8:00."

"Planning?" Hamilton asked, a little warily. What were they supposed to do for her beforehand, then? And would it really take that long?

But Natalie just smiled, and said, "You will see. But do _not_ be late. Remember, 5:00, sharp!"

Dan and Hamilton shivered simultaneously.

* * *

"… And no matter what he says, do _not_ let him convince you to play any video games, watch any movies, or do anything that would keep him up past his bed time. Understood?" Natalie shifted the weight of her son that she was carrying from one side to the other.

Hamilton stared blankly at her and the barely five year old boy. He was holding an assortment of kiddy books, toys, bottles, and a diaper. "Uh…"

Natalie sighed. "It is only for a few hours, Hamilton. You only have to do one hour alone."

"Tell me why you couldn't get a regular babysitter like you usually do?" he asked shakily.

"She… wasn't available." Natalie shook her head and glanced at her watch. "Can you remember all of my instructions?"

"Uh…"

"That will have to," she muttered, striding past him. "I have to go to my meeting, Frederick! Now be a good little boy for Mommy, alright?" She touched her son's nose with her own and set him down on the white couch in her living room. Smiling, she gave him a little wave. "Bye-bye!"

"Bah-bah!" He whimpered, moving his fingers to imitate Natalie's.

"Bye," Hamilton murmured, hardly registering his surroundings as Natalie followed Elise out of her pent house to descend to the limo in the street. He walked slowly to the couch opposite from Frederick, who was clapping his hands softly and mumbling something that Hamilton couldn't understand. He lowered himself to the seat and stared at his charge.

_I can't believe this,_ he thought. Natalie wanted him to babysit her kid. She wanted him to watch her five year old for three whole hours. _He had to watch her stupid kid._

"…So," he croaked. "Can I call you Fred?"

"Boo!" Fred stuck out his tongue, and then promptly began to laugh.

Hamilton tried to laugh along, but he was still frightened by the whole situation. "I'll just take that as a yes."

Fred stopped laughing and stared at him. Fred's eyes were huge and penetrating, but Hamilton couldn't understand what he was doing. He had grown somber in an instant. "Weird kid," he muttered before talking directly to him. "I am Hamilton," he told the began slowly. "But you can call me Hammer. Say it with me: Ham-mer. _Ham-mer._"

"Hah-mar," the boy repeated.

"…Close enough."

"Hahmar!" Fred shrieked.

"Ow!" Hamilton clutched at his ears. "Keep it down, will you?"

Fred slid off the couch, gave a scream, and ran off.

"Oh no," Hamilton breathed.

* * *

Dan slid to a stop in front of Natalie's door. He rang the doorbell, and tried to catch his breath. When it swung open, Dan jumped back and nearly screamed.

Hamilton glared down at him. "You're. Late," he seethed.

"D-dude, what's the matter?" Dan quivered.

"_Look at this._" He pointed to the boy who was currently trying to rip his hair out. "And _this._" Hamilton gestured to the room behind him, which was a complete wreck.

"Wait." Dan blinked. "She wanted us to babysit her kid?"

"He is of the devil!" Hamilton pulled Dan inside and slammed the door.

"C'mon, Ham. He's _Natalie's_ kid. Why would you expect anything better?"

"Natalie is going to be furious with us, Dan," Hamilton said. "Look, he ran all over the place dragging toilet paper everywhere!"

Dan smiled and patted Fred's head with praise. "I couldn't have done better myself. What's the little dude called?"

"Frederick. But I just call him Fred." He sighed. "This 'little dude' has been driving me up the wall! He threw his oatmeal at it, too! Some even got on the plasma screen…"

"I don't blame him," Dan shrugged. "I never liked it myself."

Hamilton groaned. "Well, if you don't seem to have a problem with him, _you_ can watch over him for a while. I need a break." He thrust Fred into Dan's arms, and stumbled off to the least damaged couch.

"Hey!" Dan called. "I can't take care of a kid! Amy says I can barely take care of myself."

"Don't use your sister as an excuse!"

"But it's true…" Hamilton gave no reply, and Dan sighed. "Look, fine. I'll watch over him for a bit, play with him, blah, blah, blah, and you can start cleaning up. M'kay?" His friend merely grunted in reply and began to gather up broken crayons.

Dan carried Fred into another room, looking to see what the extent of the damage was. A vase had been broken, fruits and their bowls were strewn across the floor, and all of the pillows had been thrown into a corner. There was a stain on a wall that Dan hadn't seen before, and he wondered what else Hamilton might have tried to feed Fred. His question was answered when he saw bottles of milk nearby, but most of the milk was in a puddle. Dan wrinkled his nose and crossed over to the pillows.

"Let's have some fun," he told Fred, trying to imitate a cooing voice that he had once heard Amy use on Reagan's kid. "Why don't we make a fort, huh? Sound like fun." He set Fred down nearby, and started to rearrange the pillows. Soon after he had started, Dan heard a distorted crash and a yell from Hamilton.

"GAAAAH!"

Dan rushed over to his friend to see him prying Fred off a piano.

"I thought you were _watching_ him!"

"I was! But then I was building a fort out of pillows for him," Dan explained. "I didn't realize that he'd just disappear."

"I told you," Hamilton sighed. "Of. The. Devil." He passed Fred back to him. "Be a little more careful next time. For all I know, he might have started painting the keys if we'd let him."

Dan thought of saying something, but decided to just nod and take Fred back to the pillows.

SCENE BREAK

About one hour later, Dan had grown just as desperate as Hamilton. So, he had done the most practical thing he could think of.

"Ha!" he crowed with triumph. "Take _that_, little Freddie-o!" He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Dan?" Hamilton asked cautiously. He had done his best to clean up Natalie's place, but it was still a little untidy. Now he was staring at Dan, who had a crazed gleam in his eye. He seemed to be enjoying this moment a little too much, but Hamilton didn't blame him.. "Now _why_ didn't I think of that before?" he cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Fred protested by screaming.

"Dang it. I need a gag," Dan muttered.

"Tying him up was enough," Hamilton reasoned, although he did throw a glare in the boy's direction. While a gag did seem appropriate, he was certain that there were cameras watching them. Yes, they had definitely done enough to detain him.

"Oh, c'mon, you're just as tired of him as I am," Dan protested.

"…Alright, so I want to do it too, but- Ah, I can't think with him yelling like that!" Hamilton covered his ears and backed up a few steps. "But I'm guessing that this is the result of your sister not answering her phone."

Dan nodded. "And I had to leave a message for Natalie, too. I don't think she would have come back any sooner, though, anyways."

"So what do we do?"

Sighing, Dan laid a hand on Hamilton's shoulder. "I don't know, Ham. I don't know…" They stood there for a moment, watching Fred. He was struggling against his bonds which Dan had fashioned out of bed sheets. The boy's face was nearly purple as a result of his screams. "Can we please get a gag?" Dan begged.

Hamilton's eyes lit up. "No. I've got something better…" He turned to the large plasma screen in the room slowly, and a grin lit up his face with the same crazed look that Dan had worn before.

* * *

Natalie set her purse down on the elegant counter top, then placed her hands on her hips. "I am surprised to see that you have kept this place so… nice," she said bluntly.

Dan shrugged. "Oh, we figured everything out." He narrowed his eyes. "That really wasn't fair, you know."

"No kidding," Hamilton muttered darkly.

"We made a deal." Natalie's lips curved up into a sinister smile. "Not many of the nannies that I have hired to much better then you two. I was expecting this place to be much more chaotic."

Hamilton blinked. "So why did you make us do this, then?"

Natalie waved a hand airily. "This is not my only home." She surveyed the area with a critical eye. "How long did it take you to clean up?"

They didn't answer.

She sighed and took off her coat, which Elise in turn took away. "Well. I suppose that is all, then. Goodnight."

"Wait!" Dan frowned. "You promised us a plan."

"I told you," Natalie sighed, "that it would not be easy. Ian knows the story inside and out! He will know what we are up to in an instant."

"It's worth it," Dan promised.

"We can figure something out," Hamilton shrugged. "Right?"

Natalie stared at them for a moment, frowning slightly. "I do not know what you want to do about it. If you still want your ghosts, Ian will not believe it."

"We could tell him it's a dream," Dan suggested.

"But it _won't_ be," Natalie pointed out. "He will find the whole thing very sketchy. And as I have said before, there is no way to bring him into the past _or_ the future."

Dan gave an exasperate sigh. "And as _we_ have said, that's where your brilliant plotting mind comes into play!"

"Well my 'brilliant plotting mind' needs a bit of time to think!" Natalie turned back to the door and opened it. "Tomorrow we can talk."

"But that's the 21st!" Dan protested. "Hardly any time will be left to put the plan into action! The point is for me to get more vacation time!"

Natalie crossed her arms. "You will not get any without a proper plan. I will call you when I am ready." With that, she pushed them out the door. "_Goodnight._" She shut it sharply. "And good riddance…"

* * *

**Give many wonderful thanks Joyce, please! **** She's so helpful. Catches my typos, fixes my phrasing, and tells me when I suck! (Nicely, of course, but it's still helpful.) She's the whole reason that this has gotten as far as it is. And I know, I wanted to have this finished before Christmas… But that's obviously not working out. So, I'll just update this when I can. A good story does take time to write, after all.**

**I also must thank those that have reviewed thus far, especially those who tried (and somehow failed…?) to look for something I could improve upon. I hope you are enjoying the story, and I would love to hear your opinions on it.**


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